so one time I was stuck walking about 19 miles at 12 AM above the arctic circle with an Austrian dude who Did Not Like Me and it was horrible until about two hours in I started singing the Krusty Krab Pizza song from the pizza delivery episode and he started talking about the German Spongebob dub and it really brought us together Spongebob transcends borders and language.
he said that overall the german dub is superior but it’s downfall is that Mr. Krabs doesn’t have a sailor accent.
what were you doing walking above the arctic circle in the middle of the night with an Austrian for 19 miles
@vampireapologist, no seriously, SpongeBob transcending language is the most explainable part of your story. What the HELL were you doing walking 19 miles in the arctic circle with an unfriendly Austrian?!
This is a very Very long story that begins with King Lear and ends with trench foot.
Okay, by request, here it is, as abridged as possible:
I was living on a farm at the tippy-top of Norway a few years ago.
The shower drain had some clogging issues, and ANY time ANYONE showered, it would sort of flood the bathroom. No biggy, we just used a big squeegy-on-a-stick to push it into a drain in the floor.
I know this seems off-topic, but the thing is I cannot remember why this guy and I didn’t get along. We had a lot of similar interests and were both decently polite people, so looking at it on paper we should’ve been at least casual friends. But we Could Not Stand each other, and now all I really remember clearly is that SOMEHOW any time this guy showered, the floor didn’t flood for him. And I’m telling you it flooded for EVERYONE else.
Idk if he had some sort of magical powers?? He was like 6′4″ with hair to his mid-back and beautiful Viking tattoos he did himself so honestly he Might have had command over running water in small doses. Idk we’ll never know.
Anyway the problem was he always showered Right After Me, so to him it seemed like I alone was bringing this watery plight upon our home. So one morning he finally lost is patience totally, and we started shouting at each other.
I cannot believe this dude got me yelling, tbh. In front of everyone!! At breakfast!!
Anyway. That’s our dramatic backstory.
So I found out the play King Lear was coming to town, and King Lear was basically the only Shakespearean I’d never seen or read; I didn’t know much Norwegian yet and was curious how much of the plot I could pick up just from acting cues. I thought it’d be a neat experiment and bought a ticket. The dude (I’ll call him Rocket for various reasons) wanted to come too, and I thought “hell, we can get along on a 40 minute bus ride, and then we don’t have to talk during the play. It’ll be fine.”
And it was. We had fun on the way there, and the only complication was SUPPOSED TO BE that the last bus to the farm left before the play ended, so we were gonna need to sleep at a bus stop on the outskirts of town and wait for the first one in the morning. Again, No Big. A lot of backpackers came through the area, and nobody would mind us as long as we were polite.
So, the play ends (unrelated, but during the first act–and this was King Lear–the cast broke into a FULL performance of “What’s New Pussycat” and I have NO IDEA WHY. I asked Rocket since he speaks Norwegian, and he said not even he knew?? This mystery will haunt me until the day I die.)
We get outside, ready to hit the bus stop and get to sleep.
I hugged this butt statue outside th theatre which is also unrelated but it was good.
Now, mind you it is damn near October, above the Arctic Circle, after midnight. It’s cold, and it’s getting colder. So once we’re outside, I start layering up both under and over my Fancy Theatre Dress. All the way down to a pair of wool thermal long underwear.
This is a photo of me from that night (without my mittens on, which I also needed).
So as I stand there, pulling on my winter camping pajamas and changing into wool socks, Rocket puts on. A Leather Jacket.
I’m dutifully horrified. “Is that all you have?”
“Yeah” he shrugs.
So we make it to the bus stop about 30 minutes on-foot outta town and hunker down to sleep. And then Rocket wakes me up a little while later because SURPRISE!!!! HE’S FUCKING FREEZING!!!!!!
In fact, even I’m a little cold, so I know this dude must be absolutely miserable. I’m looking at him, and I know what we have to do. But I don’t wanna. Be we gotta.
“Okay…Let’s walk home.”
Now at the TIME I’m being really optimistic. Naively optimistic. STUPIDLY FUCKING OPTIMISTIC. “How far could it be?” 19 miles is the answer. But I’ve never walked 19 miles after working in a field all day and then staying up past midnight. I have no idea that we’re both fucked.
And I’m being optimistic.
SO, with “What’s New Pussycat” stuck in our heads, we head for home.
It’s FREEZING. I offer him the extra scarf (and I think gloves?) that I keep in my bag, which made life a little better for him. And I’m somehow being more sympathetic than irritated that All He Packed Is A Leather Jacket. What do i know about the guy? Maybe he doesn’t have experience with weather like this and is decently embarrassed? I’m exhausted and worried about him and that’s about all the room for emotions I have at this point.
I have been trying and failing to hitch hike for about an hour now. Failing, because nobody fucking lives out here and drives by in the middle of the night. AND the two people who did pass us saw an exhausted girl shrouded in fifteen layers of winter-wear ambiguity, standing next to Thor’s human incarnation.
We weren’t getting a lift.
Anyway, to cut to the chase, the next seven+ hours are hellish. Walking next to the ocean is As Close as possible on this mortal realm to walking in Limbo The ONLY thing we have to mark our progress is a distant glacier on a mountain. And we never seem to be any nearer or further to or from it.
In our exhaustion, we keep stopping at bus stops to take naps until it gets too cold and we start walking again.
When we run out of bus stops, we sleep for about 20 minutes on a pile of gravel in an open construction yard, because it’s warmer than the ground.
At one stop, Rocket finds out he has developed trench foot. Wow!!! I tell him! This is so random but I can only ever find decently warm wool socks in men’s sizes, and I have an extra pair that will fit him! Dry feet, problem solved!
He says no thank you.
Life is miserable, but we’re talking so we don’t cry I guess.
I don’t remember anything else we discussed that night but Spongebob when i started singing the Krusty Krab Pizza song since it fit the situation. Also we talked about the German Spongebob dub and how he likes it better except for Mr. Krabs’s voice.
SO. Against all odds, we make it 17 miles, and the sun’s coming up. Some cars start coming by every 15-20 minutes, and I start sticking out my thumb again, hoping it’s a universal signal.
FINALLY this fisherman on the way home from a night of work and ACTUALLY GOING our direction instead of into town pulls over and lets us in. I don’t even know at first if he speaks English, but I start recounting the night of our Struggles, and he nods along politely since I’m clearly too far fucking gone to be grateful for the ride and just Shut Up.
He actually knows where our farm is and drops us off at about 7:30, and I swear I almost don’t make it to my bed.
Anyway, I WAKE UP AT 2 PM AND FIND OUT ROCKET HAS TOLD EVERYONE WE WERE BOTH UNDERPREPARED AND COLD and I have A THING OR TWO to say about that.
As for him, with his trench foot he can’t work for two days, and I would feel worse if he hadn’t refused the extra socks for unknown reasons.
Still, we definitely bonded that night, and for the rest of our time together in the house we get along pretty well, drinking beers and making Spongebob jokes with a mutual acknowledgement of what we went through and respect for each other.
So there ya go. Spongebob gave us the will to Go On.
OKAY SOME PEOPLE HAVE MADE SORT OF MEAN COMMENTS THAT MAKE ME FEEL “EEEHHHH” SO!Rocket and I for whatever reason REALLY got on each other’s nerves most of the time, and this was THE BIG HAPPENING. I think he was a pretty irritable person, and for whatever reason I rubbed him the wrong way.HOWEVER, FUNDAMENTALLY he was a good dude who worked hard in the fields with us and told funny jokes and I was even really glad to have him with me to camp at a bus stop because I felt much safer than I would have alone and as much as we annoyed each other I did trust him.So Rocket was ultimately a Good Person with whom I often didn’t get along.Which isn’t some terrible sin.So please don’t say any nasty mean stuff about him that will make me regret telling this funny story. Thank you!!
people keep tagging this as “I hope this is true”Like I included pictures of me theredo you think I went to the far north of Norway to work on a potato farm but once I got there I thought “hm this isn’t exciting ENOUGh I better make up a lie to spice it up”you absolute dunks
this was super great to read??? i love the, the entire idea of this whole story is great it was probably awful in the moment but, like, evocative dang
This is the first time someone has drawn any of my Life Stories TM, and I’m laughing out loud!!!
“take the damn socks?? ? ?? ? ? ? ?”
This is so freaking wonderful, thank you!!!!!!
Have you tried socks knitted from yarn spun from dog fur? Seriously. I have a hat made from dog fur, proper name is chiengora, and it’s amazing.
Not dog, but angora rabbit I have! Softest socks to have ever graced my undeserving feet. Generally, however, I like my wool items made from alpaca. It’s expensive, but I’ve been winter-camping for ten+ years, so my once modest collection has built over a long time.
okay your life sounds freaking amazing
(Your picture was not posted)